Heathens
by Shaeme
Summary: London in the 1960s, related to the Krays would never be an easy road. Neither for Frances, nor for Freya Kray would it be anything out of a fairy tale. But in the end, it would all depend on whether Freya was strong enough to endure marriage to a cheating, bisexual, paranoid schizophrenic gangster by the name of Ron. And whether she would be able to stay away from crime herself...


There's a story to be told about everyone, but most people's stories aren't meant for telling. The majority of them are simply too boring to ever hit interest with anybody, others are simply hidden in secrecy. Then there are others that intrigue the public, but are perhaps better kept in the dark. Certain reasons for that may vary, and sometimes there isn't a clear reason to be pinpointed at all.

That is presumably the case for Freya's story. The reason might be that there is no lesson or the wrong lesson to be learned from this story. Or perhaps it's just that her story, her own self, got blown to bits from the inside out by the man that she loved.

But when looked at with an honest view, she played her part in that as well.

When Frances thought of Freya, the first thing that would come to mind was the word 'friend'. _Best friend_ , to be exact. Freya was versatile, funny, kind, sweet, seductive and above all: classy. Frances had ascertained the latter the first time she caught a glimpse of her, knowing who she actually was. It was on the streets in Bethnal Green, just a couple of days after Reggie had asked Frances out on their first date, that Freya walked across the street in front of Frances' house with a man who looked exactly like Reggie, only a tad bit taller, broader and less pretty. On the arm of this man with glasses and slicked back hair, Freya laughed at something he had said, and when she caught Frances accidentally peeking from her front door, she kindly smiled at her. All that Frances could see was her, and all she could hear was the sound of her clean, white, open heels against the pavement, regardless of the fact that the streets of Bethnal Green were crowdier than ever with the market going on at that time.

That was all the class Frances ever dreamed of having. this young lady, even to her, looked like a pure dream, which was why she didn't understand why Freya was on the arm of this man Reggie would later introduce to her as his twin-brother Ronnie Kray.

And she would never come to understand. Not the slightest bit. And even if Freya Kray had tried to explain herself for a hundredth time, Frances still refused to understand why she had decided to marry this paranoid schizophrenic gangster by the name of Ronald.

But in the end, it did prove something to her, supposedly. Because however much Freya had to go through, her genuine deep-hearted love for the man that put her through most of her misery was a constant, inevitable factor. However much trouble Ronnie brought to anyone, including Reggie and Frances themselves, Freya would always be the only person able to save the day from Ronald Kray. With love. But no matter how many times Frances would hear anyone saying: 'look at the way he looks at her' 'aren't they just a lovely couple' 'you can tell they really love each other', she simply wouldn't believe it. No, she had seen the real them behind their marriage. And however much Frances wanted to believe they were fine, she knew that one day, the whole thing would explode.

All that would be left would be Freya's remains, and no matter how well Frances knew that the versatile, funny, kind, sweet, seductive and above all classy Freya was the _real_ Freya… She also knew that none of that would be left if Ronnie ever got the chance to finish her off. Dead or alive.

* * *

' _We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets. We shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender, and if…'_

'Hey, Ronnie! Ronnie, come on out of here.' The ground beneath Frances' pastel shoes was wet and leafy, which made the steep little hill she and Reggie would have to descend from even more complicated to conquer. Ronnie exited his caravan, which looked filthy from the outside, as Reggie helped Frances down.

'You must be Frances.' Ronnie said kindly with his husky voice and a soft smile.

'Hello.' Frances replied.

'Hello Frances, hello, welcome to the family,' Ronnie stopped in his tracks that previously walked him towards her. 'Well, that is a bit premature now, is it?' Reggie laughed nervously.

'Yes, hehe. Speaking of family, is Freya about?' Ronnie put his hands in the pockets of his vest and frowned as he looked away a little.

'Nah, she don't like the woods no more, she's swanning around somewhere in London.'

'Freya?' Frances asked, pretending to be oblivious to seeing Ron with that girl on his arm just a few days prior. Ronnie looked at her as Reggie went into the caravan to fix himself a beer.

'My wife.' Frances had thought so. There was a quick silence before Ronnie offered her a cup of tea. 'I just put the kettle on. Come on take a seat, anywhere you like.' The tea needed a bit more warming up, so Ronnie just stood.

'What do you think? Do you think we look alike, me and Reggie?'

'Oh, yeah, certainly.' 'No, you don't. You think that he's beautiful and I've got a face like a gorilla's arse.' Frances cracked up.

'No, no. I wouldn't say that.' 'It's all right, I'm used to it.'

'Stop doing your hair, right? Get your stuff out of the car. Do something fucking useful.' Frances heard Reggie talking to someone inside, and after that, a young lad came out. He looked very handsome, Frances thought. The boy had a satisfied grin on his face as Ronnie watched him walk along and up the hill. Then, Ronnie looked back at Frances with the sternest face.

'I'm a homosexual, Frances.' She nodded with the most confused look.

'Well,' Ronnie stumbled on his words a little. 'I'm a giver right? I'm not a receiver, you know. There is a difference; I'm not a faggot. But I do believe, you know, that you should not hide what you are, you know, because it'll make you very sad. It'll make you very unwell.'

'I agree completely.' Frances replied, but after that, she was distracted by a voice from up the hill, and it wasn't a man's voice.

'I'm glad you do,' Frances looked up; it was the same girl she had seen with Ronnie the other day. Freya. 'I just hope that next time you'll get it right, Ronald.'

'What are you on about?' Ronnie asked suspiciously as he watched her walk down the hill. 'You like me?' 'Of course I do.' Ronnie spat out with a grumpy, indignant look.

'Then you're bisexual, there is a difference.' 'Is Teddy gone?' Ronnie asked, changing the subject slightly.

'Yeah, I just kissed him goodbye.' Freya grinned as she approached her husband and gave him a peck on the cheek, and then she turned to Frances.

'Hello there… Are you…' She was distracted by Reggie who walked out of the caravan again, but that allowed her to make the conclusion that this was indeed who she thinks it was. 'Frances. Hello darling.' She first shook her hand but then bent down to greet her with a kiss on both cheeks.

'Freya. Didn't expect you here.' he said. Freya hugged him and kissed his cheek as well. 'I heard in town you'd gone off to Ron to get introduced so I thought I'd follow. Got myself some new shoes on the way.' She smiled, and then took a seat on Ronnie's lap as Reggie would take up the last chair.

'Well,' Freya sighed as Frances studied her shiny, blonde curls. Ronnie didn't pay much attention to her.

'So how are you Frances?' 'I'm fine, thank you.' Frances replied softly. She actually felt a little intimidated by Freya's extremely laid back but interesting and fun presence.

'I hope Reggie is treating you right, I know my brother can be quite… scary.' She raised her eyebrows at Reg, who just gave her a look that would have to say _'shut it'_ , but all Freya could do was grin.

'Reggie is lovely.' Frances replied, without shame. 'Isn't he? Hey, will you be at the club this Saturday? I would love to get to know you better.' Without waiting on Frances for a reply, she turned to Ronnie quickly.

'That would be fine with you, wouldn't it?' She put her hand on his arm. Ronnie just made a content noise. He'd lost focus, Freya ascertained.

'Lovely. Will I see you there?' She talked to both Frances and Reggie, who had a look at each other and then agreed.

'I can't wait.' Freya said casually, with a smile. And without speaking out loud, Frances agreed. This felt as if meeting a starlet in real life, and yes, she could not wait to get to know her better.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello there! I must say I am not completely satisfied with this chapter, as I didn't have a clear idea of how I wanted this story to begin. But I've managed to make a sort of introduction to Freya, which is the only new character I've created so far. I hope you like the concept I've tried to make clear for the story, and please leave a review! Until next time!

Shaeme


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